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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27503179">fireworks (you and i)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecrowns/pseuds/coffeecrowns'>coffeecrowns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>everyone lives [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fireworks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Languages, Learning Disabilities, Literal Sleeping Together, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Sort of? - Freeform, Team as Family, other than Bertie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 03:02:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27503179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecrowns/pseuds/coffeecrowns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“When we get out of here, I think we should set off some fireworks.” Cel announces to the basement on the morning of their second day of quarantine. </p><p>Or, the team is stuck together for yet another seven day quarantine, no one ever taught Sasha to read, and feelings occur.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azu &amp; Sasha Racket, Azu &amp; Zolf Smith, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam &amp; Sasha Racket, Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan &amp; Azu, Sasha Racket &amp; Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, The London and Other London Outstanding Mercenary Group | LOLOMG &amp; Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>everyone lives [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>fireworks (you and i)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this fic is nebulously linked to my other "everyone (but bertie) lives" but there's nothing missing if you only read one or the other </p><p>also, hello, my name is james, and i probably have an undiagnosed learning disability and 3k words worth of feelings about lolomg. the pre-slash is for whichever relationships you would like to read into this, but I wrote it with polylolomg in mind.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s not that Sasha fully can’t read. She knows what her name looks like, for one. She knows Brock’s too. She’s seen the alphabet written out, even if she couldn’t like, say it. It’s not a problem. It’s never been allowed to be a problem. She just remembers what she’s been told, or what she sees, or figures out. She’s good at figuring a lot of things out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she ends up spending weeks in a very small cell. Sasha is patient. Sasha can sit still for hours, for as long as she needs. She could grit this out if she had to. But she doesn’t have to, that’s the point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zolf is still reading Harrison Campbell, and he gets Azu into them, and she’s so glad they get along. Zolf and Azu have made her feel so safe, and there’s a part of her that wants to know what they’re talking about. Still, she won’t make things any weirder. The energy is weird between Zolf and Hamid. Zolf and Grizzop are going to end up liking each other, she’s pretty sure. She can’t look at Grizzop right now, not when she knows what it feels like to have him bleeding out in her arms. Cel is new to them all, and Sasha likes them a lot. Cel is really smart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cel is a lot like Bi Ming, where they know a lot and they know Sasha is interested. They don’t treat her like she’s stupid. And why would they. She reminds them what they were saying, because she can only process them so quickly. But she remembers it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we get out of here, I think we should set off some fireworks.” Cel announces to the basement on the morning of their second day of quarantine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hamid immediately lights up. “Do you know how to make them? I’ve only seen them once!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little buddy, are you really asking me if I know how to make colourful fun explosions?” Which gives Sasha a little bit of context, and it seems she’s not the only one who needs it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on, what kind of explosions?” Zolf asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re very safe, Mr. Smith,” Cel says. Zolf just narrows his eyes at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can turn explosions different colours?” Sasha asks. “On purpose?” She doesn’t mean for the wonder to slip through her voice, but it does. Her explosions turn fun colours, sometimes, but the prospect of having someone tell her why, for no cost, makes something in her hungry to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you are going to be fun! Here, I’ll write out the formulas.” Sasha comes to Cel, as they take hold of the chalk and go to a free section of the floor. Hamid also approaches, which isn’t surprising. Zolf and Azu exchange a look, but Grizzop actually seems interested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cel mutters to themselves, which Sasha has learnt is common. She leaves them to it, and watches Hamid’s eyes as he stares at the formulas Cel writes out. He seems to understand it, which doesn’t actually help her know how common knowledge any of it should be. Sasha learnt to make bombs in Other London, with a handful of broad categories for things she could find in black markets, by a lad with no eyebrows, a few missing fingers, and the motto, “hope for the best.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wouldn’t make sense for this to be the knowledge Cel decides to keep to themself, when they’re so open about all the other things they know. Sasha can be patient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think, Sasha? As the only other one here who can do explosions without magic, do my numbers make sense?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cel is asking her. And Sasha’s brain short circuits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - er, I’ve never done this sort of thing. If anything ends up colourful it’s just cause I’ve got slightly different suppliers. It just smells right, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cel apparently does not know, given the way they stare at her. A quick look shows everyone is staring at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me to formula for your bombs?” Cel asks, gentle as anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sasha says, and they back off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no worries. I get it, trade secrets and all.” And Cel doesn’t look upset. They don’t try to cash in on all the things they’ve told her, for free apparently. They even stop looking at her, choosing to focus on their formulas. Sasha lets out a deep breath, and goes and sits next to them, crossing her legs, trying to sink into their shadow. Hamid sits on Cel’s other side, and is experienced enough not to try to make eye contact with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know any formulas,” Sasha tells them. She makes a small gesture at all Cel’s work. “I can’t read any of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, little buddy, that’s not a big deal. Would you like me to teach you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sasha does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cel spends the next several minutes explaining the names of all the things she’s been throwing together, the symbols for them, and how to figure out what the limiting reagent is, so Sasha doesn’t have to waste ingredients, which is fascinating. Cel doesn’t talk down to them. Sasha knows her numbers, and can memorize which symbols belong to what, and can go from there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On one hand, it’s useful and practical. But once she’s got the basics together, Cel moves onto the fireworks themselves. There’s no stakes or tests, and Sasha has fun, learning at their side. And that night, she pulls herself into the hammock Cel made for her, and wonders what it would be like if she could write properly, if she could read. She lays there, and she wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zolf can read, Azu can read, Hamid can read, Cel can read, and Grizzop can read. She doesn’t know if she wants to ask any of them. Just because someone knows something doesn’t mean they can teach it. Just because she wants something, it doesn’t mean she can have it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grizzop watches Sasha climb into the hammock and fall asleep. It soothes the guilty part of him, worried about her, the part that dreams about being any slower and watching her die, that dreams about him dying in the past, leaving her in Rome after the fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t help that Grizzop is getting real tired of the cell. Not Cel, who despite the chaos is quite nice. But he grew up in underground hideaways and even though there’s too many of them for the cage to stress him out, it’s still a little too similar. It’s mostly irritating to be stuck in here again. Over the past four weeks, two of them have been in this one stupid room, not out dealing with world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to tell himself its part of the hunt, the waiting, ensuring everyone is safe to go on. But it doesn’t help that much, when he knows the enemy goes on, planning and moving. He fully just hates it. He’s not built for this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially since all this time has let him think far far too much about all the events at Shoin’s. He knows none of it would even be a problem if they weren’t stuck in the same room. He could deal with himself better then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem is Zolf. Grizzop wants to like Zolf, if for nothing else than on principle: Sasha trusts him. Sasha loves him. He’s not actually sure if either of them are aware of how familial they read to any outsider. He wants to talk to Azu about it, but in private, which he can’t for another five days still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Grizzop in fact, does like Zolf. Grizzop likes his dry wit, and thinks he’ll be a lot of fun. He admires the other man’s faith in hope, even if it doesn’t make a lick of sense on a magical basis. Zolf is far too good for Poseidon, even if Grizzop doesn’t think that’s a particularly high bar. Zolf has cared for Oscar fucking Wilde for the past eighteen months, and done a damn good job. That alone would earn Grizzops respect. Zolf is good people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The point is, Grizzop cares. Which means watching the man throw his life around for no reason is driving him up the fucking wall. Literally, now that they’re sharing four. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grizzop loses it. In retrospect, it wasn’t actually the hill to die on. Zolf and Azu have been reading, which is nice to see. Azu deserves happiness. Azu mutters something to Zolf, and he grins, whispers back and Azu smacks the dwarf with the Cambell paperback she’s devouring. Zolf’s grin gets even wider before he says, “I can take it.” The same tone and words he used as justification to throw his life around in Shion's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop saying that!” Grizzop yells. “You’re gonna die because you think your only value is in taking hits even though it’s the least important thing about you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a book,” Zolf tries. From Azu’s lap, Hamid opens his eyes, blinking rapidly trying to process the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just a book! It’s, gods, it's everything. Have you seen yourself?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Sasha stir, Cel stare. He doesn’t really want to be doing this. He knows he’s more angry at the situation than he is any of these people. But the anger bubbles in his chest and his eyes are welling up with tears and - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grizzop -” Azu tries, bless her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because you have your little book club together -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a book club?” comes Sasha’s sleepy but incredulous voice, cutting away his ire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The absolute ridiculousness of the situation hits them all at once, and he can’t help bursting out into laughter, which after a beat Zolf and Azu join in on. He knows his crying as he laughs, but no one brings it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. This can be a conversation for later, I think,” Azu chides gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it causes this many feelings, maybe I don’t want to learn to read,” Sasha mutters, but at just the wrong quiet second for everyone in the basement to hear it. Fortunately, she’s exhausted enough that it doesn’t register, and she’s unconscious again in moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long moment of silence as Grizzop looks from Zolf to Azu, and no one knows what to do with the accidental vulnerability Sasha just displayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do people really grow up not knowing how to read?” Hamid asks, and he sounds genuinely shocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Temple taught me, otherwise I wouldn’t have learnt,” Grizzop says, refusing to look at anyones potential pity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went to school,” Azu says, and Zolf nods in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t actually remember how I learnt to read,” Cel shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright,” Hamid says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we, uh, talk to her about it in the morning?” Cel asks. “You all know her better but she sounds interested, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She should at least know we know,” Zolf sighs. Lady above, Grizzop hates when Zolf is right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can frame it as something to do while we’re stuck in here,” Azu adds. “I don’t wish to embarrass her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She hasn’t done anything wrong,” Grizzop bites out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grizzop, we all know that. I just have my doubts that many people have been understanding of her.” He manages a deep breath, knowing Azu is right. They can be there for her now, and that’s all he can do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha is sick of the dreams. Knowing she’s in an antimagic box is only a bit of a relief. The nightmares about Eldarion aren’t coming from any outside force, but it means it’s her own brain coming up with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mostly, she just relieves the last few moments of Rome. From spinning out of control with Grizzop, to him bleeding out, to spinning back to her own time, all the green blood on the stones as Azu frantically healed Grizzop. Then time slows, and fiction kicks in, where Sasha tears her eyes from the goblin and can’t find Eldarion, and then Grizzop’s weight is gone, and then so is Azu and Hamid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sasha wakes, she has to look around to remind herself of the facts: Eldarion is gone and she died saving them. Everyone else is safe. Sasha has no idea what to do with that. There’s not even a good distraction anymore, just more days in the cell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only person awake when she gets up is Grizzop. She goes and sits by him, mostly to be somewhere new. Besides, it’s kind of like keeping watch, between everyone else's soft breathing and the darkness she enjoys. Grizzop hums slightly when she sits next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sasha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, mate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said something earlier, when I woke you up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You woke me up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. Not on purpose. But you mentioned something and we don’t have to talk about it but you should know that we know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What uh, what did I say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that you don’t know how to read.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that’s it? Surprised you didn’t catch on earlier, all these smart folks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re very good at what you do,” Grizzop says, and Sasha gets a soft little smile he feels honoured to see. “Would you like us to teach you? To read, I mean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like we’ve got anything else to do.” Sashe replies, ducking her head away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Sasha, if you’re uncomfortable, tell me to drop it and you never have to hear about it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I, Grizzop.” Sasha takes a deep breath. “I want to learn.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we’ll make it happen.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright little buddies, my English is still a little rusty so this is going to be a team effort!” Cel grins at Sasha, and winks at Zolf who lost the coin toss to write out the alphabet on the wall. Wilde brought down extra chalk, when asked, and didn’t say a thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha’s job is to copy it down, repeating the sounds of each letter as she goes. She frowns when Cel gets to K, “hang on mate, that’s the same sound as C!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think English is just like that, right?” They ask the rest of the room. Hamid nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G and J also are really similar,” Sasha continues, tapping her clumsily made letters on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They get used differently in words, it’ll get easier then,” Zolf replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Sasha says, dubious. “If you say so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll figure it out, Sasha,” Hamid says, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a long way through the second half of the alphabet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hamid is going through rhyming words with her. He writes out the ending and filters through all the consonants that might fit in front, and Sasha has to remember which one it is and write it in. It’s pretty slow going, but it isn’t a bad way to spend an afternoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what school is like, right, Hamid?” He thinks about the fact they’re in a dungeon,  that there’s five teachers for one person, and that this will only last until their quarantine ends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, basically. This definitely counts as studying.” Sasha slowly fills in the H in hat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did this all time? For magic?” She asks, after another long minute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t very good at learning magic this way, but I tried to.” Hamid sounds embarrassed, and Sasha’s brow furls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I bad at learning?” Sasha asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No! No one is </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad </span>
  </em>
  <span>at learning. Sometimes people struggle with learning various types of things, especially if they’re only taught one way. Learning is just a thing people are built to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Sasha replies, and Hamid doesn’t know what to make of her expression, so instead they move onto the next word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Azu really would like to like Zolf. She definitely likes lots of individual things about the dwarf. She thinks she will probably end up liking the person all those little pieces make. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And really, since they’re the only two awake, now is as good a time as any to test that. Zolf is sitting by the edge of the cell, looking out over the bunks and mess of teammates. Hamid is tucked under the indisputable best blanket in there. Sasha is curled into the fetal position on the bottom bunk, with Grizzop asleep on the top. Cel is currently a bat, hanging upside down in the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all made it through day four” Azu says, because that’s all life is in quarantine. “How are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Zolf replies. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m doing alright. I’m enjoying teaching Sasha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She deserved to learn before now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes. But the world is full of things that no one deserves. She has us now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not fair,” Zolf breathes, not a whine but a tired statement of fact. “For this to be the safest part of her life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Azu agrees. In the grand scheme of things, she hasn’t known Sasha very long. But Azu is no fool, and knows enough. Aphrodite has clear rules about people who knowingly harm those they are supposed to love. Azu’s primary duty is to Sasha, but she wonders if Barret should have died when they had a chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “My brother taught me to read,” Zolf says. He lets that hang there, long enough that Azu starts to think about her condolences because Zolf won’t say more, but then he continues. “It’s a lot, but it’s nice. You know, to pass it forwards?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” says Azu, “I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha does not, despite best efforts, learn to read in a matter of days. Wilde comes to do the final inspection as she and Azu sit, as Sasha sounds out as many words as she can think of and Azu corrects and has Sasha write the correct version. She can read and write everyone's names, as well as a handful of small and useful words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Dagger was a tricky one, but well worth it to Sasha. Despite the frustrations of double letters.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a small but not insignificant portion of Sasha’s brain that tells her it’s good she got as far as she did, since no one is going to have this sort of patience for her again. If this is all she gets, she’d be happy. She takes her bath, and changes in privacy, and climbs onto the roof. It’s nice to be alone. It’s nice to hear the chaos of the people inside. Both are true here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a little while, she can hear the sound of Cel’s voice, shouting excitedly for her. She doesn’t intend to surprise them, but they startle ever so slightly before breaking out into a grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fireworks!” Cel manages to both announce and ask. And it’s off to their makeshift lab, where they don’t make her feel stupid even when explaining every detail. It’s a bit like the early days of working with Bi Ming, but on explosives rather than shiny things. The crowd they gather is partially due to nerves, but there is very real excitement on many faces. The rain has stopped for now, and people have been starved of pretty things. Cel explained how fireworks would work, and Hamid babbled excitedly as they climbed the large hill they planned to release the fireworks from. But Sasha wasn’t prepared for bright circular patterns, the stunning array of colours, or the way it felt like she was standing among falling stars. She certainly wasn’t prepared for Azu’s gasp of joy as she held Grizzop and Hamid each on a shoulder, or Wilde leaning ever so slightly against Zolf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, Sasha gets to help light up the sky, and it lets her see the pride on her family's faces. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>anyways if you made it this far thank you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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